Now or Never
by galaxies in her eyes
Summary: Hermione falls for the most unexpected person at the masquerade ball. Written for Hogwarts (Challenges and Assignments), Pop Music Chart Day.


**Written for Hogwarts (Challenges and Assignments), Pop Music Chart Day.**

 **Prompt: 60s songs — "Now or Never", by Elvis Presley**

* * *

 _It's now or never..._

Hermione looked around the large ballroom. The live orchestra was playing one of her favorite songs: "Now or Never" by Elvis. She had just arrived; it had taken nearly two hours to wrestle her unruly hair into submission. Ginny had left before her so as to not keep her date waiting.

Hermione had no such qualms. She was going solo.

It was one of the Ministry's finer attempts at class — a masquerade ball. She wore a silver, form-flattering, floor-length dress, low heels (she had found out the hard way that she was simply not one of the lucky women who could make walking in stilettos look effortless), and she had on a sparkly silver mask which covered her eyes and was held on the Muggle way — with ribbons laced around the back of her head.

She sat as gracefully as she could at a small table in the corner and watched the dancers waltz in slow, lazy circles with envy. She and Ron had broken up after only a few weeks — thankfully, he seemed to have grown up a bit. He hadn't even thrown things.

A light touch on her arm made her jump slightly in her seat and reach instinctively for her wand. "Oh!" she exclaimed.

"Pardon me, miss," a smooth, seductive voice said. "I did not mean to frighten you." The speaker was a tall, well-built man wearing a pirate outfit — loose black pants, boots, and a ruffled white shirt. His mask was all black, and it had a small red plume sticking up from the side.

Hermione sighed with relief. "I'm sorry; I don't know why I'm so jumpy tonight."

"May I have this dance?" The mysterious man offered her his hand. His voice sounded familiar. _Maybe he attended Hogwarts,_ she thought.

She smiled and placed her gloved hand in his. "Of course."

* * *

 _My heart was captured..._

Even as Hermione swayed gently with the masked stranger, her brain was running through possible suspects. _Who could it be?_

She knew no one who had quite the voice of this man, and yet, she felt so safe with him. How was this possible? She hadn't felt this comfortable in such close proximity to someone — man or woman — in a long time.

She found herself wanting to know more about him.

She wanted to know who he was.

* * *

 _Be mine tonight..._

He arrived at the ball early, and had mostly stayed in the shadows. Until he saw that tell-tale glossy chestnut hair. Even though it was pinned back in a half-up, half-down hairstyle and had miniature braids wrapped around her head, he knew it was her. He just had a feeling.

Then he did something even more stupid than usual.

He went up and asked her to dance.

He had never had the courage to approach her before; he shuddered to think what could have been done to him if he had been seen.

As he spun them around, his mind spun rapidly. What would his father say if he could see who he was touching — holding close, even?

And that's when he realized he didn't care.

* * *

 _If we lost true love..._

The song was coming to a close, and Hermione looked up as he cleared his throat. It sounded nervous to her, although perhaps it was her own emotions that she was tuning into. "Would you care to take a walk in the gardens with me?"

She smiled weakly.

"That would be wonderful."

* * *

 _For who knows when  
We'll meet again this way..._

The garden was built beneath a domed roof. There were charms around it to preserve the perfect temperature — not too hot, not too cold. The plants were beautiful, and there were several types of roses and other rare plants that didn't usually grow in Britain's climate.

He cleared his throat again. "You are a lovely dancer, miss."

Hermione blushed demurely. "Thank you," she replied softly. "You are quite good yourself."

He looked everywhere but at her. "Er..." he scratched the back of his neck, "Will I see you again?"

"Again?" she asked, her eyebrows lifted — not that he could see them, hidden behind her mask as they were. "You don't even know who I am."

 _I know more than you think,_ he said. But, alas, he did not speak these words aloud. Instead, he merely thought them as he watched at her. _I know that you have the kindest heart in Britain — perhaps in the world. I know that you would rather keep your comments to yourself than risk speaking up and hurting someone's feelings. I know that you're a bossy, little know-it-all swot. I know that I have been in love with you for years. I know_ —

"I know enough."

* * *

 _Tomorrow will be too late..._

Hermione turned her face away from her masked suitor and slowly lifted her hands to the back of her head. She tugged on one of the ends of the carefully-tied silver ribbons, and it unraveled beneath her touch.

She pulled the mask away from her face and held it in her hands, staring at it for a moment before turning back to him.

She discovered that he, too, had removed his mask.

* * *

 _It's now or never_  
 _My love won't wait..._

Her eyes roamed his familiar face. _"You,"_ she breathed. "Oh, I should have known!"

He nodded. "Are you...disappointed?" She could tell he was putting on a brave face, but she could see the worry that he quickly hid in his eyes.

"No," she said slowly. "No, I'm not. Surprised? Yes. But disappointed?" She paused. "Absolutely not."

And, for the first time that she had ever witnessed, a real smile spread over Draco Malfoy's face.


End file.
